


big teeth, small kiss

by justdk



Series: Double-Edged side stories [4]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Age Difference, Hand Jobs, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Post-Canon, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27922081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdk/pseuds/justdk
Summary: Like the Gray Man, Declan was barely dressed. One of the Gray Man’s large T-shirts hung from Declan’s frame, falling to mid-thigh. His bare legs and feet, his naked shoulder where the shirt had pulled to the side, all sent a sharp pang of desire through him. Declan looked vulnerable and lovely and perfectly relaxed, at home in the Gray Man’s home. His hair was mussed from sleep and his skin was just as marked as the Gray Man’s, a testament to their joyful, enthusiastic homecoming.[After months of travel, drama, and danger, Mr. Gray and Declan get a pocket of peace.]
Relationships: Mr. Gray | Dean Allen/Declan Lynch
Series: Double-Edged side stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804615
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	big teeth, small kiss

**Author's Note:**

> title from BTSK lyrics by MS MR -- this song is 100% the mood for this fic
> 
> I'm still working on the Double-Edged main story, this is set somewhere towards the end of it, after things calm down. There are hints of what Declan and Mr. Gray go through (scars, etc). I love writing soft scenes for them so this was really a self-indulgent treat for me!

When the Gray Man woke the bed was empty. He reached across to Declan’s side, checking the temperature of the sheets. They were cool to the touch.

Light streamed in through the slender spaces between the window curtains and the wall. Bird song and the muffled noises of the neighborhood filtered in.

The Gray Man took another handful of moments to enjoy being back in his own bed, to linger in the soft sheets that smelled of him and Declan. The months on the road had been grueling. Exciting, yes, but he was over the bad mattresses and the unfamiliar sights and smells of motel rooms. He and Declan had worked hard, been through hell, and they deserved this reprieve.

Eventually the soft, half-asleep feeling faded and the Gray Man felt truly awake. He sat up, wincing at the soreness from the night before, and scanned the bedroom. Declan hadn’t tidied up and their clothes were strewn everywhere. It was deliberately messy and wonderful.

The Gray Man got up and pulled open the drawer to his dresser, finding a soft pair of gray sweatpants carefully folded next to a stack of dark gray T-shirts. Maybe Declan was right and it was time to add some more color to his wardrobe. Perhaps a few black or white T-shirts.

He padded through the house, making his way to the kitchen. His home in a little town near Boston was small, meant for a single person or a couple. Not a family, not unless they liked being cozy. The single bedroom was tucked in the back of the house, a narrow hall separating it from the bathroom. He walked through the large living area, the curtains on the floor to ceiling windows pulled back giving him a view of the backyard. The kitchen was directly ahead and he could hear Declan puttering around, opening cabinets, shuffling dishes and utensils on the counter. The scent of freshly brewed coffee called to him like a siren song.

Declan stood at the counter, his back to the Gray Man, stirring something in a big glass bowl. His attention was absorbed in the task, his head tilted down, his shoulders relaxed. He was swaying slowly from side to side and the Gray Man realized that he was listening to music, his earbuds hidden by unruly curls.

Like the Gray Man, Declan was barely dressed. One of the Gray Man’s large T-shirts hung from Declan’s frame, falling to mid-thigh. His bare legs and feet, his naked shoulder where the shirt had pulled to the side, all sent a sharp pang of desire through him. Declan looked vulnerable and lovely and perfectly relaxed, at home in the Gray Man’s home. His hair was mussed from sleep and his skin was just as marked as the Gray Man’s, a testament to their joyful, enthusiastic homecoming.

The Gray Man moved to stand behind Declan, his hand settling on Declan’s waist and alerting him to his presence. Declan jumped in surprise, the whisk in his hand clattering against the bowl. The Gray Man steadied him and Declan relaxed almost instantly, leaning back against him. He took out his right earbud and tilted his head back, his soft curls tickling at the Gray Man’s bare chest. The Gray Man took the earbud from Declan and kissed his forehead. He put the earbud in his ear and listened to the song, immediately recognizing the artist. Declan swayed slowly in time with the music and the Gray Man followed his movements.

It felt entirely natural. It wasn’t a dance, just a slow side to side sway. The Gray Man kissed the side of Declan’s neck and his shoulder. His hands traveled from Declan’s waist to under his shirt. Declan wasn’t wearing underpants and that sent a thrill racing through the Gray Man’s blood but he didn’t touch Declan there. Instead he moved his hands over Declan’s abdomen and ribs, fingertips tracing raised scar tissue.

Declan’s breath hitched, becoming faster. He pushed away from the counter, molding his back to the Gray Man’s front, reaching behind him to clutch at the Gray Man’s hip, his other hand coming to rest on the back of the Gray Man’s neck. Declan lifted his head and tilted his face to the side, angling for a kiss. The Gray Man would never deny him. He lowered his head and kissed Declan soundly, the music thrumming through them as they moved, grinding more than swaying.

The Gray Man’s hand slid over Declan’s chest, his palm rubbing against Declan’s hard nipple. Declan hissed into his mouth, his body jerking in response. The Gray Man did it again, loving the way Declan moved against him. Declan’s skin heated under his touch and the kiss took on a more desperate edge.

“Touch me,” Declan gasped. His ass ground against the Gray Man’s crotch, against his hard dick. “Don’t make me wait.”

“The pancakes…”

“Fuck the pancakes.” Declan nipped the Gray Man’s jaw. “C’mon.”

The Gray Man kissed Declan hard, sucking on his tongue. His pulse throbbed and his dick ached as he held Declan to him, his palm pressed flat on Declan’s stomach. He broke the kiss for a moment, licking his other hand. Declan moaned softly and stuck his tongue out. The Gray Man held his palm to Declan’s mouth, shivering as Declan licked over his skin and then sucked on each finger.

He wrapped his slick hand around Declan’s hard length, stroking him.

“Fuck!” Declan trembled, his hips rocking forward into the Gray Man’s hand. “Tighter,” he groaned.

The Gray Man obliged, tightening his grip. He thrust against Declan’s ass, wanting to be inside him but also loving the tension and buildup. He loved giving Declan pleasure and watching him fall apart in his arms.

“God, fuck, please.” Declan’s cries were frantic, strained. The Gray Man jerked him faster, kissed the nape of his neck, sucking hard at the tender skin before sinking his teeth in.

Declan cried out and came, spilling over the Gray Man’s fist. His body went slack and boneless and the Gray Man caught him, bearing him up, cradling him to his chest as Declan breathed and breathed. The Gray Man nuzzled his shoulder and wiped his sticky palm off on his sweatpants; they needed to be washed anyways, the front damp with precome.

A new song played through the earbuds, something quieter, calmer, dark and lovely. Contentment sang through the Gray Man’s bones. He never thought he’d be able to come back here, and he certainly never thought he’d come back with someone, a person who made him happier than he had ever thought possible.

Declan turned in his arms and kissed him softly. His mouth opened sweetly and he hummed as the Gray Man ran fingers through his hair, trying to tame his bedhead. Declan’s hand slipped down the front of the Gray Man’s sweatpants, his fingertips tracing over his dick.

It didn’t take much stimulation to bring the Gray Man over the edge. His fingers tightened in Declan’s hair and he came, his forehead pressed to Declan’s shoulder, his mouth open in a silent gasp of pleasure. Declan ran his other hand up and down the Gray Man’s back, blunt fingernails scratching lightly, raising goosebumps over his sensitive skin.

“God, that was beautiful,” Declan sighed. He kissed the Gray Man’s cheek, his temple. “You alright, babe?”

The Gray Man nodded. He wrapped his arms around Declan, holding him like he was something fragile when, in reality, Declan was one of the strongest people he’d ever met.

Declan seemed satisfied with his non-verbal answer because he straightened up and wiped his hand off on the shirt.

“Just look at us,” Declan said. “Already making a mess.”

The Gray Man chuckled and raised his head, meeting Declan’s clear-eyed gaze. They shared a fond, amused smile.

“Shower?” The Gray Man asked, his voice rusty.

“Mhmm,” Declan hummed in agreement. “Shower, then breakfast, then bed.”

“Sounds perfect.” The Gray Man grinned and scooped Declan up, easily tossing him over his shoulder and carrying towards the bathroom. Declan laughed the entire way.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned for this to be "slow dancing in the kitchen" but it became "tender hand jobs in the kitchen" *shrugs* 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @dkafterdark


End file.
